Surviving the Hellatus
by stefandiedforcaroline
Summary: AKA a series of oneshots that are meant to soothe my poor soul during the Supernatural Hellatus. Probably gonna mostly be Sabriel, but expect brother feels and past feels, too. M rating 'cause Chuck only knows what will end up happening in some of these.


_In the aftermath of episode eighteen of season nine, Castiel is left wondering if he ever truly saw his elder archangel brother, and if he did, if Gabriel had really chosen to listen to Metatron. Sam and Dean are still on the outs, despite hunting together, and progress towards Abaddon has slowed to a crawl._

_A war on heaven seems inevitable, but when Castiel lets slip to Sam during a phone call about the twisted fantasy Metatron had painted around him to attempt to form him into the perfect villain, the younger Winchester has other things on his mind. Is Gabriel really alive? Could he have survived that encounter with Lucifer? And if he had, why the hell is he showing up now?_

_Oneshot. This was supposed to be Sabriel, but it turned into something different with Sabriel only implied- whoops._

* * *

He hasn't been one for prayer, lately. Once upon a time, maybe Sam would've thought prayer to be a good way to feel some sort of relief from the living hell that was life as a hunter- but now, he's learned just how angels can be, and praying seems like it would be an act of idiocy. Yet still-

_"He made me think Gabriel had returned."_

_"Wait, what? Cas, he died. Lucifer killed him… didn't he?"_

_"That's what I thought. But the more I think about what happened, the more I have to wonder. It was all a trick, and-"_

_"And tricks were Gabriel's thing. Yeah. Do you really think it's possible, though?"_

_"I think that Gabriel was able to accomplish much more than we can imagine. He was a pagan deity for many a century, Sam."_

So maybe Gabriel _is_ alive and kicking. It does seem strange, looking back, that the archangel was able to be killed so easily. Sam knows from experience that they're not the easiest things to take down. Gabriel was the youngest, but did that make him less powerful?

He's supposed to be grabbing food, even promised Dean pie as some strange, unspoken apology over not being able to put into words just why he would never do what Dean had done. Taking away his autonomy, his choice- it's not even about whether or not he'd save Dean. That's not the point. The point is that Sam had lost control of his body yet again, and it was like a violation, it still feels like- like some strange form of rape. He just doesn't know how to explain that.

But he hasn't even gone into the gas station, instead sitting in the Impala and staring through the windshield at the sky. Wondering about heaven, about Gabriel, about all of it. He should hate Gabriel, he knows that, but he also knows that hearing about how Gabriel ran from a life he didn't want- a life watching his family tear themselves about- always did hit a strange chord with him. To think that the archangel is alive and might be on Metatron's side inspires a strange rush of betrayal, a thing that sprouts in his chest and refuses to fade despite all knowledge that Gabriel wasn't even an ally. Not until the very end.

But then, he also knows about how bad decisions can follow someone, and he's not completely and totally sure he can hold Gabriel's against him, especially when he thought he was doing what was 'right'.

Right. A skewed perception of right, but he did think he was simply helping his family by trying to make things end. He was scared. He'll never admit it to Dean, but Sam's thought about the whole situation more than once. He might not _agree_ with all Gabriel's done, but he does understand it. And he can forgive it.

With a sigh, he lets his head fall back against the seat, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander. He can afford a bit of alone time to think. _Gabriel, if you're really alive, I hope we don't have to kill you._ Because _if_ Gabriel's alive, and _if_ he's working for Metatron, he's an enemy… again. And there's that feeling of betrayal, that hurt that he can't quite explain but also can't ignore. Ever since that phone call with Cas, he's been going over this again and again in his mind, and the thing that hits him hardest is that if Gabriel's alive, he's let them go through hell and hasn't lifted a finger to help.

"Well, now, that's not really very fair, is it?"

His first response to the voice in the Impala is instinctual, scrambling to both get the hell out and reach for his gun before he truly connects the voice with a face- but even then, he's putting distance between himself and the Impala, the only alteration being a grab for the angel blade at his side.

It's gone, and the owner of the voice is already out of the car, leaning against it and staring at Sam with a somewhat bemused expression as he holds up the blade Sam was reaching for. "Shame on you, kiddo. I come to answer your prayers and you wanna stab me. No hug? Y'didn't miss me at _all?_"

"Gabriel. What- how…" He's tempted to grab the gun instead, but knows it's useless. Brow furrowed in his confusion, staring at the archangel like he's some sort of ghost, he fumbles for a question. There are so many swirling in his head that it's hard to know where to start. "I didn't pray." Okay, not a question, just a fact. Gabriel chuckles, twirling the blade in his fingers before tossing it back to Sam.

"Oh, but you did. When you mentally try to talk to an angel? That's a one-on-one prayer session, and _you_ tried to talk to _me._ So, prayer answered. By the way, killing me isn't easy. Just ask Luci- oh wait, you can't. He's locked up with Michael, isn't he?"

"Where the hell have you been?" Sam asks, the blade already lifted as a defense though his fingers aren't quite so tightly curled around the hilt as they could be. With a roll of his eyes, Gabriel simply shrugs, as though he hasn't been gone for years. As though he's only been gone a few hours, and the disappearance isn't strange. Doesn't warrant an explanation. The blithe way he responds sparks something in Sam, and he steps closer, anger all too clear in his eyes. "Gabriel! You can't just show up-"

"Calm _down_, Sasquatch. It's not simple. Let's leave it at that."

"How about we don't? Because last we knew, Lucifer ganked you and then, suddenly, you were batting for Metatron." Gabriel snorts derisively, arms crossed over his chest and an offended look tossed Sam's way.

"You're kidding. You've gotta be. You're the _smart one_, Sammy boy. Do you _really_ think I'd play along with this?" he asks, waving a hand vaguely to indicate (presumably) the situation at hand. "I mean, come _on_. Angels locked out of heaven? Factions slaughtering each other? Some high-and-mighty _scribe_ trying to play Dad's role?" And for a moment, Sam does feel somewhat stupid. Because when Gabriel had been outed for what he really was, he'd told them his reasons for leaving heaven, his reasons for trying to get them to play their 'roles'. He'd had to watch Lucifer and Michael fighting for however long, and he'd despised it. Had been so sick of it that, in the end, he'd resigned himself to the sad truth that he'd lose one of them, no matter what, so he just wanted it to be _over_.

Now, with the angels on earth, his siblings were fighting again. Not his elder ones, either, not this time- if he understood it correctly, Gabriel would be the elder brother to _every single angel_ out there. The ones turning on each other, killing each other, torturing each other. His siblings were fighting again. Mercurial he might be, but would his views change just because it wasn't Michael and Lucifer? This is an all-out war within his family, so it stands to reason that he's not happy with it… so why support Metatron?

"So it wasn't you," Sam finally breathes, some weight lifting from his chest. "It was a fake. You didn't help orchestrate it."

"No," the angel says, shaking his head. "Wasn't me at all. I'm offended, by the way. I heard through my own special ways what happened, and _that_ was shoddy workmanship. I mean, what self-respecting king of trickery would make a stupid continuity flaw like forgetting a rip in a trenchcoat?" His brows arc in that all-too familiar fashion of his, and he smirks. "Now, ya gonna put the blade away and listen, or am I gonna have to convince you more?" Sam feels his jaw tighten, reminded still of how long Gabriel's been gone. _We could have used your help._

I could have used your help.

"No. You were _gone_. You- you left us to fend for ourselves! I thought we'd made some sort of impression on you, but you hid again!"

"I didn't hide!" All amusement is officially gone from the angel's features in an instant. He looks frustrated, angry, even. "You don't know where I've been! What I've done! So don't you _dare_ presume to know-"

"Know what? That you just- you let us believe you were dead!"

"I may as well have been!" With a flick of his wrist, Gabriel sends the blade flying from Sam's grip and crosses the distance between them to glare up at Sam. It shouldn't be intimidating, the archangel is _shorter_, and yet, suddenly, Sam wants to backtrack. The best he can do is stumble back a few steps, but Gabriel matches every one of them. "If it weren't for Kali, I _would_ be! Wanna know where I've been? _Hell._ I have been in agonizing _pain_ as the pagan gods tried to piece me back together!"

The information hits Sam like a ton of bricks. _What does he…_ "I should have died. But Kali had my blood, and that girl can be damn frightening when she wants to be. So you want to know what happened- fine. Kali and about six other death deities went head-to-head with a certain horseman to keep him from finalizing my death via getting skewered by my brother, and the _only_ reason they could was that Kali used my blood to bind me to the world." Sam knows his mouth is hanging open in some mixture of shock and confusion, but he can't close it, nor can he make himself speak. All he can do is listen.

"This whole damn time, they have been picking up shards of _grace_, shards of the angel and god that I was, and sewing me back together. I didn't get a clean bill of health until about two weeks after heaven got locked, and yeah, I tried to find you. Tried to find my baby brother. But y'all had to go and get warded, so I've been waiting for one of you to take a chance and pray. I don't do things halfway, Sam." None of what he's saying sounds possible, and it's nearly impossible for Sam to process- not because of how strange it all sounds, but because he, himself, has been pieced back together before. He's been helpless before. Unable to do what he felt he had to at those times… and Gabriel's reaction to being accused, if he's telling the truth, makes perfect sense to him. But before he can further question him, Gabriel's continuing on, his voice low and more serious than he's ever heard it.

"I swore my allegiance to humanity. I may be many things, but I am _not_ disloyal, and I would have been here if I could have. You made more of an impression than you think. So don't claim I abandoned you, because I never would."

_That_ is what confuses Sam the most. The relief the words inspire, the happiness that Gabriel never meant to leave the fight- and a bit of sadness, too, because it's another soul dragged into the fray. But this _is_ Gabriel's battle, more so than Sam and Dean's. It takes him a bit to gather his thoughts, shove away the confusing confliction of emotions in his chest, but when he does, he can only ask one thing:

"So you want to help?" Gabriel steps away, turning to retrieve the blade from the ground. When he turns to offer it to Sam, the seriousness is gone, replaced by his crooked smirk that somehow looks different. Harder.

"Oh, Sam. I'm not just joining the cause. I'm gonna lead it. That's one thing Metatron got right- I'm gonna rally the troops and I'm gonna shiv his ass without hesitation. See, he seems to have forgotten something…"

"Yeah?" Sam's hand is on the hilt of the blade, but they're both holding it now, Sam cautiously searching Gabriel's face as the angel chuckles.

"Two things. One, it's never a smart thing to fuck with my favorites." For a moment, their eyes lock, and Sam feels distinctly strange- like he should be seeing something more there, something he's not sure of. Instead of addressing the way the archangel's looking at him, he presses for him to finish, pulling the blade away to tuck it back into his jacket.

"And two?"

"Two? Heh, well… I'm the last living and free archangel, and _I_ happen to know a back way into heaven. It's the exact way I snuck out all those years ago, and it _can't_ be closed." The angel's grinning now, and there's definitely a darker edge there. "He'd better hope he's as strong as he seems, because I've got plans for him."


End file.
